The Arrangement
by Emmeebee
Summary: Tonks always thought that being an Auror was to be on the side of good, but a shady deal brings light to the corruption within.


Tonks' hand rested on the wand in her pocket as she strode purposefully down Knockturn Alley. Wrapped in a run-of-the-mill black cloak and sporting the plainest features she could muster, she blended seamlessly into the rest of the crowd. But if there was one thing she had learned about this place, it was to always be prepared. Its patrons had the habit of taking offence at any perceived slight, no matter how small. Whilst it usually never went further than a Stinging Hex — no one wanted to give the Aurors yet another excuse for a raid — it was best to keep her head down and her wits about her.

Fortunately, everyone seemed too caught up with their own business to pay any attention to hers, and she reached her destination without any trouble. Fledermaus and Tanner Bats & Skins was a small, dingy shop tucked into a quiet corner of the alley. Specialising in creating and selling leather products, it was one of the tamer stores on the street.

And it just happened to be owned by one of the Aurors' key informants. Stephen Fledermaus had cut some sort of deal with the department a few years ago. Tonks didn't know the exact terms, just that every few weeks, he sent her a letter to say that her order was ready, and she showed up, always in a different disguise, to receive whatever piece information he had for them that time. In order to protect their source, they usually had to wait to accumulate a few different charges before acting on one of them and 'discovering' the others, but he had been instrumental in a number of different investigations.

As Tonks stepped inside the tannery, her gaze swept the room. There were several people milling about, no doubt trying to get in some last-minute Christmas shopping. None of them seemed to be a threat, but she knew better than to let her guard down. She worked with Alastor Moody, after all.

She walked up to one of the shop assistants. He seemed to be new; at any rate, she hadn't seen him there before.

"I'm here to collect a package," she said, putting on a Mancunian accent to help with her disguise.

She held out the letter. The young man looked at it for a moment, then his eyes widened. "Basilisk leather? That's a speciality product. Mr Fledermaus usually handles those personally."

"And where can I find Mr Fledermaus?"

"Upstairs," he said. Then, presumably realising that it was an employee-only area, he added, "I'll let him know you're here."

"Thank you," she said as he hurried away. New, indeed.

It didn't take long for him to return, Stephen in tow. The older wizard walked over to her with a sombre look on his face. "I'm afraid there has been an issue with your bag, ma'am. If you follow me through to my office, I will explain it all to you."

"An issue?" she asked as he led her upstairs. "I thought you said it's already complete."

"It is, and it will still be ready in time for Christmas, but I do need to talk to you about it before we can finalise the sale."

The moment the door shut behind them, their facade dropped. Within the warded room of his office, they had the utmost privacy.

"What do you have for me?" she asked, pulling a piece of parchment and writing supplies out of her magically extended coat pocket.

Before he could reply, however, one of the pieces of leather hanging on the rack behind his desk caught her eye. Its colour and texture were both very distinctive. She had never been good at Care of Magical Creatures, but her mother loved fashion, so Tonks was familiar with most different types of leathers. Unless she was mistaken, that particular piece of leather was made from — "Is that house-elf skin?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to," came his glib reply.

Tonks put her quill down, feeling affronted. "No, I think I — and the Ministry — very much want an answer to that question."

"Actually," he replied, drawing the word out with an air of arrogance she hadn't seen on him before, "the Ministry very much does _not_ want an answer to that question."

Her eyes narrowed. "Making leather out of house-elf skin has been prohibited for over twenty years. If that's what I think it is — "

Stephen tilted his head, his lips twisting into a nasty smirk. He had always seemed kindly and well-meaning, if opportunistic. She was beginning to rethink that impression. "They never told you the terms of our arrangement, did they? You see, it's not exactly pro bono. I give the Aurors information that I think might be helpful to them, and in return — "

 _No,_ she thought. _We would never —_

" — they turn a blind eye to information that they think might be unhelpful to me. Like, for instance, information that suggests I might be in possession of illegal leather."

"I don't believe you."

"Then ask your superiors."

Ever since she was a little girl, Tonks had seen the Aurors as heroes. They put their lives at risk to protect innocents and catch wrongdoers and always, always, came out on the right side of history. She had dreamt of joining their ranks since before she could remember, seeing it as the most worthwhile profession someone could enter. It was gutting to think that, after all of the years of daydreaming and hard work, they might not be as noble as she'd thought. She stood up and made her way over to the rack of leathers. "Due to the suspicion of criminal activity, I will be taking all of these with me so they can be tested. Should they prove to be legal and aboveboard, they will be returned to you in the same condition as they are now."

With a complicated series of flicks and swirls of her wand, she placed a protective barrier around the rack and then shrunk it until it was small enough that she could fit it in her pocket. Placing it securely inside, she turned and made her way for the door.

Just as she was about to leave, however, his voice — quiet and mocking — rang out through the silent room. "If you leave, you get nothing."

She hesitated as, suddenly, she remembered her reason for being there in the first place. Under the weight of her righteous fury, it had completely slipped her mind. Turning slowly, she straightened her back and said, her voice as chilly as the dead of winter, "You're wrong. I get to keep my integrity — unlike you."

Without a second glance back at Stephen — _Mr Fledermaus,_ she corrected herself bitterly — she stormed out of the office, taking the stairs two at a time in her haste. The shop assistant who had served her earlier looked over with a concerned expression on his face, as did the customer he was currently talking to.

"I asked for basilisk skin," she said with as much venom as she could, "and he tried to give me doxy skin. I don't know what kind of establishment you're running here, but this is not the last you'll hear of this."

The customer made a noise of disbelief and turned back to the shop assistant. "Never mind," the lady said, stepping backwards. "I think I'll take my business elsewhere."

It wasn't the smartest of moves, but Tonks didn't care. If Mr Fledermaus was right about the Aurors, then they weren't going to do anything about the house-elf leather. They would tell her all about how it was part of a bigger plan, how it was a necessary evil, how it would benefit everyone in the end. They would lie. Then, they would go back to him and smooth things over so they could keep using his information because that was apparently more important than the lives of innocent house-elves.

It was like her mother had always said: "Money is the root of all money." Those who had money and influence would always find a way to accumulate more, while those without it would just keep slipping deeper and deeper into a hole of someone else's making. Tonks had just never imagined that the Auror Department could be facilitating that process, turning a blind eye to the suffering of the socially disadvantaged so they could get what they wanted from the rich.

But if the Aurors weren't going to make him face repercussions, then at least she'd had the chance to get some sort of revenge, even if it was just in the form of one lost customer.

Maybe Alastor was right. Maybe the Aurors wouldn't be enough in the coming war; maybe there might even be a time when they were more of a hindrance than a help.

Maybe it was worth joining the Order of the Phoenix after all.


End file.
